Poirot: That is human nature, Mr. Cameron. But it is comforting for us mere mortals to know that banks too have their difficulties.

Japp: Someone was trying to tell me you were going into the missing domestics business. "No, no," I said. "Not Poirot", I said. "Hard times or not, he wouldn't fall that far".

[As they trek through the muddy hillside to a cottage]

Hastings: Look at that view!

Poirot: Yes, well, views are very nice, Hastings. But they should be painted for us so that we can study them in the warmth and comfort of our own homes. That is why we pay the artist for exposing himself to these conditions on our behalf.

Hastings: What do you mean conditions? It's a wonderful day. Just fill your lungs with that air.

Hastings: No, my poor friend. This sort of air is intended for birds and little furry things. The lungs of Hercule Poirot demands something more substantial - the good air of the town!

---

Hastings: [When they arrive] Wonderful position.

Poirot: If you are a rock, it's wonderful.

Constable: Sarge, there's some French gent at the door.

Poirot: No-no-no-no, I am not some French gent. I am some Belgian gent.

Porter: [Annoyed by Hastings] I'm talking to the engineer, not the oil rag!

Poirot: [About the guinea he earned] It is to me, Hastings, a little reminder never to despise the trivial or the undignified. A disappearing domestic at one end, a cold-blooded murder at the other.

Poirot: Prevention of crime is not what policemen are best at. They will need to have one constable for every citizen and go everywhere with him. But fortunately for the human race, most of us have our own little policeman... [Gestures to his grey cells] ...up here.

Poirot: Hercule [pronounced Er-Kool]. Not Hercules, but Hercule.

Poirot: Some cases are simple and some are trés compliqué but all are of interest because all, you understand, rest solely on the character of the participant.

[Boarding Hastings' car]

Poirot: Not too fast, mind.

Hastings: Don't worry, I won't go over 80.

Poirot: Kilometers?

Hastings: Miles.

Japp: If there was to be any rough stuff, I don't know as Mr. Poirot'd be the first person I'd think of. Brainwork, yes. Rough stuff, dubious.

Hastings: [Trying to fix his car] Well, it's not the carburetor anyway.

Poirot: This is not what I long to hear, Hastings. I want to hear what it was, not what it was not. Better still, I want to hear the motor!

Poirot: When the time comes to act, Poirot will act.

Japp: [About a suspect] Name's Joe Rogers or so he says. He's sticking to his story anyhow.

Poirot: Perhaps Poirot can move him.

Poirot: Ah, Hastings, the grey cells, sometimes they work even better in the dark.

Hastings: Why won't you let me drive you?

Poirot: Hastings, the train has one advantage over the car. It does not often run out of coal.

Poirot: Cricket, the English enigma. I know not of any other game where even the players are unsure of the rules.

Poirot: I have a dinner engagement with my dentist.

Hastings: Your dentist? That's positively morbid.

Lemon: But you're always trying to avoid him!

Poirot: Not at all. Off duty he's quite charming. Besides, he likes to see the end product at work.

Poirot: [About the uncharacteristic behaviour of a suspected murder victim] The mantle of life should fit like a well-tailored suit of clothes. But it did not hang so well on that old man on the restaurant.

Poirot: Let us hope, Chief Inspector, that the forensic sciences of which you are so proud does not replace every aspect of the detective's work. Let us hope that camaraderie will still pay a significant role.

Poirot: Hastings, this is a recipe of my mother - Rabbit cooked in the style of liège.

Pamela: Kitty is making such a blessed racket. She blames herself, you see. Well... And me.

Poirot: But how can she blame herself?

Pamela: Well, we did say some pretty dreadful things about her.

Poirot: My dear Mademoiselle Cregan, if everyone on board who had said unpleasant things about Madam Clapperton were to make as much noise as your friend, this vessel would become a danger to shipping.

Poirot: No-no-no-no, thank you very much, mademoiselle, but essentially Hercule Poirot is a man of peace.

Poirot: This is not like the grey cells, Hastings! I have given them every chance. They have been cosseted, I have slept to allow them to do their work, I have eaten fish for breakfast. Result: Nothing!

Poirot: Hastings, there are two reasons why I should never become a millionaire.

Hastings: What are they, Poirot?

Poirot: The first: That I should never make the detestable pork pies, eh? And the second: I am too understanding towards my employees.

Poirot: You know, Hastings, sometimes I wish that I was not of such a moral disposition.

Hastings: Really?

Poirot: Would not Hercule Poirot do better than any criminal? Hercule Poirot would use his grey cells, eh? Hercule Poirot would change his modus operandi for every crime. Scotland Yard would never be able to pin him down.

Poirot: Of the digestive organs, the liver is the king. Look after the liver and life will take care of itself.

Poirot: Ordinarily, a woman will accuse anyone in the world except her husband. She will stick to her belief in him through thick and thin.

Poirot: [About provincial gossip] In a town like this, Hastings, woe betide any husband who buys a tin of weedkiller... And then if his wife suffers from gastritis and is inclined to be imaginative, the fat is the flames, I think.

Dr. Adams: Damned nonsense! Damned nonsense, every word of it! Was I or was I not in attendance in this case?

Poirot: Indeed. All I-

Dr. Adams: Did I or did I not say the first day I went to see Mrs. Pengelley: "Gastritis"? Yes! Did I ever waver from that diagnosis? No, I did not!... I'll be blunt with you, Mr. Poirot. We in Polgarwith don't need you outsiders coming in and spreading your tittle-tattle.

Poirot: All I am trying to tell you, Monsieur le Docteur, is what Madame Pengelley thought!

Dr. Adams: If she thought that, she must have gone mad! She should have come to me. I'd have told her.

Poirot: And have all her fears ridiculed?

Dr. Adams: Ridiculed? Certainly not. I have an open mind, I hope.

Poirot: A doctor who lacks doubt is not a doctor. He's an executioner.

Poirot: So you want me to hush it up?

Jacob Radnor: Well, I admit I'm being selfish about it. I'm building up a good little business here. You don't know what these small towns are like.

Poirot: Most of us are selfish, Monsieur Radnor. Not all of us admit so freely. Yes, I will do what you ask but I tell you frankly you will not succeed in hushing it up.

Jacob: Why not?

Poirot: Vox populi, that is why. The voice of the people.

Poirot: Ah, Hastings, you admire le femme, eh? You prostrate yourself before all who are good looking.

Poirot: Un peu enerve, cher madame. You telegrammed to me that you need help and for this reason I come by the express from London.

Ariadne Oliver: Well I do need help. I'm most awfully worried.

Ariadne Oliver: I'm well aware you think me irrational.

Poirot: Madame, one calls things by different names, hein? It may indeed be that you have seen something, it may indeed be that you have heard something. And it may be if I may so put it. That you do not know what it is that you know. You are aware only of the result. And that, madame, it is your intuition.

Ariadne Oliver: Any theories?

Poirot: Everybody seems to me to be completely normal.

Ariadne Oliver: Are you trying to be amusing?

Poirot: Perhaps that is not the right word. Lady Stubbs, it appears, is subnormal, Alec Legge abnormal.

Ariadne Oliver: He's all right. He's just having a nervous breakdown.

Poirot: But everyone seems in a state of agitation, which, I believe, is characteristic of the preparations for a fete in England.

Ariadne Oliver: What do you think?

Poirot: I think, madame, that I take the little walk.

Ariadne Oliver: What do you think?

Poirot: Je crois que vous avez raison. There is something that is uncomfortable.

Ariadne Oliver: And a murder hunt would be awfully convenient if you wanted to conceal a murder.

Poirot: But a murder, madame, requires a victim. So who is this victim? This is what we must discover.

Alice Cunningham: The Labours of Hercules. That is how you unconsciously conceive your career. You are the modern incarnation of Hercules.

Poirot: [blushes] How resourceful of me.

Alice Cunningham: Dr. Lutz should name a condition after you: the Hercules complex; the compulsion to conquer all obstacles, however forbidding. It is why you are driven to chase Marrascaud. You simply have to.

[Alice Cunningham, a.k.a. Marrascaud, is arrested along with the other accomplices and being led away]

Alice Cunningham: [to Poirot] Do you feel redeemed, monsieur? Does this atone for the death of Lucinda? Because that was a bit of a mess, wasn't it? I heard you say the words, Poirot, promising to protect her. You, the poor man's Hercules. So vain, so ineffably smug, and you failed. [Poirot starts walking away from her] Don't turn your back on me. I shall find you.